Contractual Obligations
by 4persephone
Summary: Co Written with Neon Daisies. Movie-verse Esque. What happens when everything...literally EVERYTHING becomes a matter of contract.
1. Chapter 1

At five pm sharp on Friday night, Pepper comes down to the garage, keys in her code and makes Jarvis turn down Tony's music

At five pm sharp on Friday night, Pepper comes down to the garage, keys in her code and makes Jarvis turn down Tony's music. "The workweek is officially over, Mr. Stark. Off with the pants."

Tony raises an eyebrow where he's stretched out on a repair cart under the hotrod. "Sorry Potts, but I'm kinda busy at the moment lubing up another lady's plumbing.."

Pepper appears entirely unsympathetic. "Yeah well it's your fault you took so long to get around to it." She plants a foot between his legs on the dolly he's lying on, and pulls him away from the car. "The deal is signed and up in my office, Stark. You get me during the workweek, I get _you_ during the weekend."

Tony actually snickers. "You had me Tuesday, Potts. _Twice_ for the record, which means I should get at least half an hour to finish up what I'm doing right now." He shakes his head. "My God, you are so _pushy_ lately. What - is one of the board member's getting on your nerves about something again?"

He quirks his eyebrow in amusement and sympathy, but Pepper will be damned if she admits that he's right. Instead she plants her hands on her hips and wonders how he can look so fucking arrogant when she's literally got him laying at her feet. "Days when you come back from missions don't count." Especially when he came home so relievingly _intact_ when the CNN footage had left her expecting that he'd be bloody. The toe of her shoe just barely grazes his groin. "Com'on, Stark. I wore the good lingerie today."

'Good' in this case implies black lace, garter belts, and possibly one of the bustiers that she knows drives him absolutely _crazy._

It could also mean that one of her piercings was in.

Tony considers this information for a moment, before the argument in his brain turns to the advantages of outright conceding vs. the fun of getting her pissed of _and_ horny. He's always taken a certain pleasure in poking at her veneer of calm, if only because he's always suspected that the act is less what she _is _than what she thinks that she _should be_.

"Twenty minutes, Pepper. If you're that wired up, than I suggest you go up to the kitchen and sit on an ice pack or something..." Her eyes narrow a little and he smirks as he shifts, feeling a now familiar rush of blood starting to head toward his pants. "Seriously Pepper, I _really_ need to finish this, and it won't take that long. I promise when I'm done I'll fuck you right there atop the table, or the refrigerator even."

The thought of the second made his stomach growl. He realizes in the very back portion of his mind that he's actually kind of hungry. Pepper Potts, meanwhile, doesn't look impressed, though she also doesn't look particularly pissed either. "Pointy toes and three inch heels, Stark. If you're not careful, that the ice I go to get is going to be for _you_."

She drags him further away, then plants her foot to the side of his head. He makes one move towards that car and she be all over him. "It's after five on Friday...the workweek is _over_..."

He looks at the hotrod and she just wants to scream. "Pepper, in case you haven't notice I take a lot of pride in the fact that I'm not the kind of guy who'd leave a girl unfinished..." But he's starting to smirk and her eyes narrow even more as she figures out what he's been playing at ever since yesterday evening.

"So then those e-mails this afternoon were about what then? Not to even _mention_ the delivery at my place last night. Because I'd have to say that lingerie and sex toys were more than a little deliberately teasing. You made me some daring promises, in those emails..." She runs her eyes down over his body and trails a finger down the low neckline of her suit jacket as she steps away.

"Of course, they were mostly talk, I'm thinking. There's a reason I don't call you Ironman in bed. I'll just go occupy myself until you get done playing with your several ton dildo..."

She starts to walk away and a hand closes around her ankle. Tony rolls forward with his toes just enough to guarantee she lands against his chest when he tugs her off her feet. "Tip for you, Potts; it's generally unwise to insult a man's 'suit' if you want to see it anytime. And as for the emails," he chuckles softly. "Well what can I say? Six months and despite all my hard work, you haven't ever really developed any appreciation for a properly applied _delay_..."

She braces herself on the edge of dolly so that she can look down at him from above. "There's no insult, Tony. It's a proven biological fact that men reach their sexual peak in their early to mid-twenties, and women reach it closer to their mid-thirties to early forties. It's nothing to be ashamed of if you're struggling to keep up. We have the vibrators in your room for a reason."

He whistles under his breath. "You really do need to unwind tonight." His hands make quick work on untucking her shirt, and runs his hands up her thighs. "You know, I think sometimes we may need to renegotiate our original contract. Because by the end of the week in an cold, empty bed? Well I hate to have to say this but you get downright _cranky_."

"Just because you're not in it, doesn't mean my bed is empty," she murmurs before swooping down to capture his lips. She rakes through his hair with her nails, deliberately scraping them against his scalp with just enough pressure to make it sting.

The words garner a pleasingly immediate response - he pushes himself upright, capturing her hands at the wrists. "I _better_ be it, Potts, because _you're_ the one who demanded the exclusivity clause."

His kiss is punishingly fierce in retribution; as he reminds her that though they don't often talk about the rules, they still know the nature of the game. They've been together since September. And he doesn't plan on seeing that fact change anytime soon if he has anything to say about it. Though, Tony had to admit, maybe lovers isn't quite the right word. Fuckbuddies is probably the closest term for their current arrangement, and even that doesn't fully sum it up. Either way the change in their dynamic had started in early fall, though who exactly had made the first move was still a hot point of debate.

Pepper claimed it was him who'd thrown down the opening gambit, but to this day he disagreed...

After all, he hadn't been the one, who'd started showing up to the office wearing a scent he refused to refer to as anything but 'bottled arousal.'

The first day she'd come into the office with that particular scent, she'd been wearing a dress that flowed like a second skin over her hips. The line was too perfect to have concealed any panty line. She hadn't been wearing any underwear. The second time she'd worn that scent they'd been out at a casual mixer for work and she'd been wearing a dress that was still her usual cut, but not her usual black...no this had been a deep, shimmering purple. That night on the way back in the limo he'd started crowding her a little just to get a better whiff, and she'd totally ignored him.

The third day she'd worn that scent, he'd decided to play dirty and trace the line of her neck in an unmistakable tease.

She'd been the one who'd turned around and kissed him in retaliation though, and that in his mind, makes her the official initiator.

He nips at her lip hard enough to make it throb and she yelps softly, breaking the kiss. His eyes never leave her mouth as her tongue darts out to check for blood. Then she tastes her upper lip. Then she's kneeling between his spread legs, once more claiming the advantage of height as she returns the force of his kiss. Her wrists are still firmly in his grip but now he's holding her off instead of controlling her.

She's always been a scrapper, but then so has he, and it seldom escapes his attention that he can outmuscle her by at least eighty pounds. He doesn't say that of course: why brag about what you can use to your _advantage_. He relaxes his hands just long enough for her to untense her arms, and then he arches his back. The movement pushes her forward and off the cart, and less than five seconds later she's sitting on the floor of the workshop looking at him in disbelief.

He sits on the end of the dolly and grins down at her. "You have a choice, Potts. Horizontal or vertical. But make it quick, or I'll decide for both of us."

And then he starts ripping at buttons, because he hates this particular pants suit. It's just too hard to get her out off and he knows, by the state of her lingerie, that she loves taking advantage of that. He'd wanted to draw things out a bit, but if she really insists he'll take the opportunity that's offered.

After all he hasn't made love to her down in the workshop since that third night, and he'll welcome the chance to play this game in a way that's more than a little dirty.

She doesn't complain as he all but destroys the suit she's wearing - they both know she'll go buy another like it, and charge him for when she does. However, she's no kinder to his clothes, even though she knows they're some of his favorites...she gave him the opportunity to get undressed on his own, after all.

When his fingers find bare flesh she halts her efforts to get him naked as she shudders against the mouth trailing hot, wet kisses over the exposed tops of her breasts. The bustier she's wearing is little more than support wires and thin black lace; when his fingers find her nipples there's little to dull the sensation.

"We're not doing this on the floor," she growls as she presses herself against him. His response is to shove her unbuttoned pants downward and push the scrap that barely passes for underwear to one side. Then his fingers are probing hard and finding her g-spot. Circling firmly as he presses her on her back to the floor. "You're the one who wanted it now, no time for preliminaries..."

He shoves an unused shirt that's lying beside them between her head and the concrete.

To be honest the floor isn't bad, the cold of the cement is a soothing contrast to her overheated skin. Still, there's the principle of the matter. "You said I got to choose," she gasps as she arches into his hand. Of course, if he dares stop now in order for them to move, she might have to kill him.

His fingers curl and she whimpers, once more sinking her hands into his hair to keep him where she wants him. "I told you to pick quickly or I would." He corrects, and then he's tilting her hips off the floor and driving fiercely into inside.

Pepper's head thumps back against the shirt with a low, muffled squeak.

The bastard sets up a rhythm that makes her eyes want to cross at the same time she just wants to smack him. "Fuck," she gasps as she braces herself against his shoulders. Yes, she's noticed his shoulders, and his arms, both heavy with muscle. All the years she'd known him, she hadn't been able to avoid the half-naked glimpses of his body because he just had _no shame_. But the arc reactor wasn't the only thing he'd come back from Afghanistan with, and frankly, she was just as happy that he'd kept the muscle.

Especially in moments like this when he's willing to fuck her senseless. Because none of her other lovers ever seemed to understand that it didn't always have to be gentle or 'meaningful.'

Sometimes there's something to be said for pounding out someone's brains.

Right now those shoulders are growing damp with sweat, and she can feel the heat washing over her own skin as she struggles to hold on. It is always a battle to see which of them can hold out longer, which can cause the greater pleasure, and which one of them can accept it. They're demanding with each other, but never greedy for more than the chance to watch the other surrender once they're locked together and nearing the end.

And thanks to his fucking explicit letters throughout the day, and the damn 'anticipatory package' he'd had delivered last night she was probably going to end up surrendering this round.

She'll make him pay for that eventually. Once she reinserts her brains.

Above her Tony keeps thrusting, though with a particular sense of mischief in his eyes. "You do realize..." He punctuates every other word with a powerful thrust, "That I can see when you're still thinking..." Tony has always considered it something of a personal insult when her mind wanders off during sex.

Though for the record the way his hand has now dropped and started rubbing on her clit is cutting off her minds usual tendency to ponder... "Gah ah," is the closest thing to words that she can manage as the fireworks go off in her head.

Her head smashes back into the homemade pillow as she comes, hard and almost repeatedly. When she floats back down several seconds later it's to see him gloating boldly. "I win."

"You certainly do." He's still hard inside her and she deliberately tightens around him. "Of course, that also means you need to come more than I do right now," she reminds him as his eyes cross. "Should I offer you the same choice you gave me just a few minutes ago? Or should I just show the same lack of manners?"

He's braced so firmly above her that she's able to pull her upper body off the floor by using his shoulders. As her tongue traces the shell of his ear she whispers, "Though, I'm going to amend it. Do you want to be on your back on the floor or in the hot rod, Mr. Stark? Because we'll never make it up to the kitchen."

He grins and this time she actually hears his stomach growl. "What I want a is a _sandwich_, and maybe a soak in the hot tub. Then you can ask me that again."

And Pepper stares n disbelief, but Tony only shrugs. He doesn't want to admit that he's not chasing his finish in the way that she just was. Because all though he will die before admitting, he's gotten fuck for sleep this week. If he gives in now, not only is Pepper not going to get round two, but coming was going to leave him a hypoglycemic but highly sated mound of sleeping jelly on the floor.

On the other hand if he got her to let him eat, he was also reasonably certain that he could sneak in another cappuccino to keep him 'up' and pleasant company for at least a couple more hours.

"You suck," Pepper tells him, because she knows exactly how many hours of sleep he's been getting thanks to Jarvis, and also because she knows that he hasn't eaten since breakfast because he hasn't actually emerged from the garage since then and she hasn't gone down to see him for fear of starting the festivities early.

"If you want me too: yes, with fervor...though first I really _do_ want that damn sandwich and something to drink." What he wants is _cappuccino_, and maybe three cups would be a better idea, his head is a little spinney...but that's the norm after too long without food.

Besides, he's not entirely sure how many cups of mocha he's already _had_ today.

She sees him looking at his espresso machine longingly and she slams the heel of her hand into his chest. Not hard enough to really hurt...or at least not hard enough to leave a bruise, but they're still joined, thank you very much. The only thing he should be looking at that longingly is _her_.

"I will feed you. I might even let you get into the hot tub. But you have reached your caffeine limit for the day. It's coffee or me."

"I've had two cups!" he protests loudly... And he _has_... he remembers two in particular, all within the last half hour...

"Jarvis, how many cups of espresso has Mr. Stark had today?" Pepper asks the AI with a tone that is nearly scathing.

"Twelve, Ms. Potts, though to be fair that is since five fifteen PM yesterday afternoon."

Pepper looks up at him in shock. "My god why aren't you _dead_ right now? Have you ever heard of caffeine poisoning?!" She finds his pants and hits him in the head with them as she pushes at his shoulders. "We have got to get some food into you."

"Hey, hey, hey easy on the merchandise." He scowls as he rises up and off of the floor. "Jeez...you try and be a gentleman and let a lady go first, and all it gets you is whacked upside the head."

"If you were behaving rationally, it might get you head. But you're being an idiot. And I want you alive so I can have my way with your body." Pepper twitches her underwear back into place and stands up, using the car to brace herself.

"In case you haven't noticed Pepper, I've been kind of busy this week. Forgive me if I need a little help keeping up with the schedule..." Aside from the normal daily shit there'd been four separate board meetings, a mission to Guatemala she knew about and one to Peru for SHIELD that she didn't. The suit had needed patching, the suit had needed cleaning, the suit had needed upgrading, and that was all before Wednesday.

That didn't cover the time he'd spent actually helping engineering with some tricky schematics. And it sure as hell didn't cover the several hours he'd spent carefully wording those emails.

Yes, that part in particular had been fun, but it was the principle of the thing, for God's sake. He is almost forty fucking years old, and he _refuses_ to take Viagra.

Pepper unfortunately, doesn't seem particularly sympathetic. "I noticed, Stark. However, I was also under the impression you didn't need me to tell you when to take naps."

"I'll nap Monday morning. Preferably during the monthly department meeting. I don't snore so I guarantee no one will know."

He knows he sounds churlish, but by god it is _Friday_...and it's hell enough keeping his hands to himself during the normal five day workweek. For all that he whines, he knows he's lucky to get Friday through Sunday afternoon, and he'll be damned if he wastes any of that time.

A man and his libido had to keep certain pacts. And he still hasn't met his personal 'make Pepper come this many times in one weekend' goal quite yet.

He'd gotten ten out of her last time, he wanted at minimum fourteen.

Yes he might fail, but he somehow doubted she'd complain.

"I'm limiting your caffeine intake for the rest of the weekend," she tells him. "And if I think you've gotten enough sleep by then, we'll discuss lifting it during the week."

"Pepper, if you're going to bitch about it then fine, I'll take a two hour nap." He resents the need, but understands the impact...besides two hours is enough to recoup a little and still stay within his timetable..

Pepper just looks at him, half bent over as she reaches for her own clothing...not that any of it is suitable to put back on. "I'm not 'bitching,' Tony. I'm worried. That much caffeine is unhealthy, and I know you've probably had just as much in every twenty four hour period since Monday. So please humor me here and at least pretend you care about not poisoning your body." And then she has to go and look all _concerned_, which he thinks is so unfair, because she shouldn't be able to do it.

They're fuckbuddies, not dating. She set the damn standard herself.

It isn't fair that she still gets to play his damn wife.

"Fine then. Sandwich. Iced Tea. Hot-tub." After that maybe they could sit in front of an adrenaline type of movie and make out while he watched people blow more shit up.

She rolls her eyes at him, falling back into the attitude that marked their weekends. "I didn't say no caffeine. The last thing I want is for you to go into withdrawals."

He looks mildly offended. "You make it sound like I'm an addict. I agreed to drink ice tea."

"If you're not, then your frighteningly dependent. Will you at least put your pants on, please? Or we're not going to make it out of the garage. Or you won't at least, because once you fall asleep I'm letting you stay that way for at least eight hours."

He considers whether he is currently coordinated enough to actually get dressed without falling on his ass. "I prefer to be naked actually…my pants would be too confining right now."

Then he turns and trudges in the direction of the elevator, which is his one small concession regarding how tired he is right now. His erection isn't really waning so much as it is bidding it's time. He reaches down and strokes it consolingly just for good measure.

Pepper picks up his pants and brings them over. "There's ice in the kitchen," she reminds him sweetly as she drapes them over his shoulder. She's not much better off, considering most of her garments are one type of sheer or another, but at least she's covered. "You might change your mind."

"You're the one who's got the ice kink. I prefer to keep things toasty. And I can be naked if I want in my own stupid house." He hits the button on the elevator, leans against the wall as it starts to rise. Then he reaches down and grasps himself hard by the end of his shaft to take the edge off. After all, all things considered, she is _still naked _and he's tired, not _blind._

Of course, there's no hiding a thing between them. Pepper just raises an eyebrow. "You can jerk yourself off any day of the week," she reminds him. Then she crooks a finger at him in invitation.

He shakes his head a little. "Not trying to finish things, Pepper...I'm trying to delay. Probably pass out from the strain if I don't replace the calories first." Despite all this, he scoots over enough to half lean on her. She runs a hand up and into his hair and starts stroking it soothingly.

"You know, if we just bypass food and feed you when you get up, there'd be no reason to delay." Her fingers slip under his, sliding across the taut skin before settling into a slow stroke.

His response is a slow kind of gurgle. "No. Been waiting all fucking _week_, Tuesday doesn't count." Tuesday had been something yes...but mostly desperation. Nothing like the slow glut of the weekend when everything finally slowed to a trickle and he could laze away the day...

He didn't want a fucking hand job. Well okay he did, but only after another eight hours. He wanted to lose himself in her body, gorge herself on her hair and her smell and her skin. He hated their 'deal' in moments like this, even though he realized its purposes as well as she did. Because it was one thing to have a friend to scratch the itch with on the occasional basis, and another entirely to have something much more than that. Something you figured out after it was too late and had to keep hidden.

"Tony...you're exhausted." She almost sounds like she's pleading, which she's not supposed to. All her care and concern is supposed to be limited to the week, when she's his PA and it's her job to nag him. The only nagging she's allowed to do on the weekends is "faster," "slower," and "harder." And of course, his favorite, "more."

But she is right, he was exhausted...and damnit, his body is not listening to him.

And his heart just doesn't care, and so he let his eyes drift closed as he sets about rocking himself into her lightly clenched hand

"That's it," she whispers against his ear. "I love feeling you in my hands." Her free arm reaches up his back before she starts trailing a single fingernail down his spine, eliciting shivers from him... The elevator slows and the doors open. "This is our stop, Mr. Stark." She grins against his lips. "With you in this state I might actually get to fuck you unconscious."

Tony barely opens his eyes, though his hips jerk a little, he allows himself to be led down the hallway with her still cupping him in her hand. His bedroom is typical, chaos incarnate, though this time at least it looks like he's actually remembered to change the sheets.

"So...what's the best way to do this?" She softly questions the man as they reach the bed. The only response she gets is an almost boneless quiver as he drags them both down again the smooth cotton sheets.

Somehow as they roll back and forth, kissing and touching and shivering, he strips her underwear off though everything else stays in place. He suckles her breasts through the lace while she takes hold of him again and holds him against her opening...and then she meets his thrust and the movement is silky smooth and deep and she rides him down to mattress to take him as deeply as possible.

"Oh...fuck," she whispers as she rises up no more than an inch before she lowers herself. "Tony...fuck..." Her filthy mouth has always amused him, and even now it's no exception.

"So _good_..." He murmurs, eyes screwed shut. "Missed you _so much_..." And then his hips are spasming and he's coming before she can fully warm up. And she should be annoyed but she's actually amused, until she tries to slide off the top of him only to find herself caught and held by a man half asleep and not in full awareness of his own actions.

"_Stay_," he murmurs, as he looses the battle with consciousness. "_Hate it _when you leave. Just stay awhile." And then his body slackens but his hands cling to her, and the reality brings a strange sort of knot to the pit of her stomach.

Because he's not really awake, and somehow this feels like an invasion of privacy.

Because she's _never_ seen this kind of need on his face.

Well...that's not exactly true. She's seen a version of it the day she tried to quit and he confessed to her how much he'd needed her. But there had still be a measure of...strength, of pride in him that day. Right now there is nothing but the need, and his arms still wrapped around her as if he's dreading being separated even in sleep.

For the first time she begins to think that this is exactly as hard for him as she pretends it isn't.

And she thinks back to that first week. And the desperation that had made her lay her opening gambit.

And she wonders how long she's already been the winner of the game without even noticing.

He'd never know how tricky it had been, to get that damn perfume in the first place. But the other option would have been worse. She'd seen that look in his eyes one day and _known_ he was about to resume his old habit of trolling. And for the first time in her life, she'd known absolutely that that was _not okay _with her.

They weren't who they used to be, not anymore, not after they'd lost and fought and yes even _bled_ together.

And they were only going to break if she tried to make them stay the same.

And so she'd taken the step she'd always sworn she'd never take. Because Afghanistan had stripped away all the crap that had hidden his true character. Once he'd come back - focused, determined, as brilliant and irritating as always, but with fewer screens between the public and his true face... Well, those screens had protected her as well. And with them down she had to face what he was.

Idealistic, driven, obsessed, truly working with the intention of benefiting others, sarcastic, loyal, reactionary...

The list could go on and on, but it didn't matter. Because she'd seen those things in him first, and he'd admitted that she was all he had - a sentiment she returned. And that meant he belonged to her. So it was time to stop chickening out and just claim what she wanted.

Of course, that had left her with the dilemma of how to claim him without him noticing and panicking. She'd ultimately chosen a version of his own MO...brief flings with a deadline. She'd thought at the time that it would be enough, that she could tether his very airborne nature with a genuine friendship and an enthusiastic body.

And it had worked. They'd been everything she could have possibly imagined and more when they crossed the line she'd always assumed would have cause at least a ripple when they first made their start.

Tony Stark had accepted her conditions. They'd actually drafted a contract and laid out the rules.

And she'd tried to make do with his smile all week and his body on the weekends.

She'd never expected she could have him seven days a week.


	2. Chapter 2

When Tony sleeps, he sleeps hard. Pepper has no complaints about the fact, exactly - mostly because she follows him into unconsciousness within minutes of the time that he does. When she wakes to the memory last night and his still sleeping face, something inside of her falls into place. She lays there and she _knows_ their deal isn't working anymore. She's been violating the heart of it for months now, and the funny thing is, she's beginning to suspect so has he.

She's not his fuck buddy. She feels too much for him to just be that.

Tony stirs and she lays on her side to study him. She wants to wake up to this view every morning. She doesn't want to have to steal moments with him from a strict timetable that's not meeting either of their actual needs. She doesn't want to see that desperation on his face as if the very basic act of caring for himself somehow steals away time when they should be together.

In fact, she's pretty sure that what drove her to offer this insane bargain in the first place - her inability to share him - is spurred by_ love, _which has nothing to do with their 'no emotions' bargain. The fact that she's been in his bed every weekend since the ink dried is proof enough to her that she's in this for more than just the admittedly too tempting draw of his body.

She doesn't just want to be the only one he's allowed to have in his bed. She wants to be the only woman he _wants _to have with him there, and the fact that Tuesday happened at all makes her hope that maybe Tony feels the same way. Her desire may not be out of place. However, she doesn't know how to raise the subject without making him bolt. She doesn't know how to sit him down and tell him she loves him.

She doesn't know how he'll react, if he'd pull up their stupid contract or not. Because yesterday she'd seen at least a part of him she'd never seen before, and she hadn't even been actively looking.

That scares her and makes her wonder what else she's missed. Because the idea that he's an unknown to her even after all this time is a little bit scary. Does he need her? That's always been so. Does he know she loves him? That's a critical question.

And does he love her? That's the card he's holding closest to his chest of all. Everything in their lives now hinges on the answer to that in particular.

She watches him as he sleeps, as the sun slowly rises above the horizon. She thinks about him as she eases from the bed to go make breakfast because it's been too many hours since he's had more than caffeine to sustain him. And as she's frying the bacon that she bought on the way here yesterday morning it occurs to her that she doesn't really need to make some big, loud, attention getting announcement to figure any of this out.

It's always been her way to quietly goad him into doing whatever it is that he needs to do. Maybe if she just _loves_ him, he'll get the picture and finally drop the mask.

Breakfast seems to be a good place to start as any to try that tactic.

So Pepper fries up the rest of the bacon and makes coffee before loading up a tray to bring upstairs. The last thing she adds is the half-empty carton of milk from the fridge, two bowls, and a new box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that she knows is his favorite. She takes it upstairs and sets it on the bedside table before climbing onto the bed to straddle Tony's sleeping form.

"Wake up, sleepy," she murmurs as she leans over and starts pressing scattered kisses over his face. "I brought cereal and coffee..."

The man underneath her groans softly and pulls his hands from beneath the blanket that is covering him, resting one loosely on each of her hips. "Mmmmmmm. You're wearing _clothes_, Potts. We have a rule about such things in my bed."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes well, you were sleeping and I, despite my cleverly disguised wild side, don't cook bacon in the nude. I think too much of my assets for that." She grins and kisses him slowly so that he doesn't have the chance to argue. "Besides, _you're_ the one still in bed. I'm on _top _of the covers so I'm only technically _on_ it."

His stubble is heavy from hours of not shaving and he rubs it against her face in retribution. "Semantics...Clause six specifically states when there's an issue of particulars we stick to the spirit of the terms and not just the letter."

His hands are climbing up under her open silk shirt as he says this, and she shivers a little as his nails ghost across the space just beneath her breasts.

"Okay one...bacon's ten times better when it is warm. Two, you haven't shaved or had a shower in my estimation for at least two _days_..." This earns her a small huff of indignation. She kisses him in apology before continuing, Three, if you don't eat you're going to pass out again immediately after we have sex." She scoots back so he can sit up against the headboard.

"Is it real bacon or more of that damn turkey crap?" He eyes the food tray a little suspiciously. As if he can't already tell by the color and smell.

"Come find out." She picks up a piece of bacon up and holds it up to his lips. His tongue snakes out for a tentative lick of what's offered before he raises an eyebrow and scoots over to actually take a real bite

"Okay - not turkey bacon. Maple thick cut... From that deli I like." He raises an eyebrow, dragging the bed sheet around to cover his own hips as he regards her suspiciously. "Okay the last time you fed me this stuff you also conned me into attending that horribly boring gala... So what are you _planning_, Pepper, so I can start finding new ways to say no in advance."

He just sounds so hen pecked that it's a little bit funny. And she knows for fact he thoroughly enjoyed that particular party. She'd shuffled the seating arrangements around no less than four times to get him sitting by particularly chummy friends of his from the research and development department. "It's the weekend, Tony - that's reason enough to spoil ourselves a little." She takes a bite of the half eaten strip before holding it out to him again. "And while you probably ought to be terrified of what I'm planning for later, you're just masochistic enough that you'll probably _like it_."

He shrugs. "Still doesn't mean I can't be instinctively paranoid. It what keeps me honest, and sometimes alive."

And it does. More than she likes to really think about. But this is the weekend and she refuses to spend any further time brooding. "No, what it does is 'keep you is on your toes.' And I think you like that too." She smirks at him as she lightly presses the bacon against his lips. "Com'on, Stark. You're going to need your energy."

He finishes the piece of bacon in one bite before reaching around her for another one. He grabs a bowl off the tray and reaches for the box of cereal. "So I need a shower, huh? Am I taking it solo or are you coming with me?"

She laughs. "I believe that technically solo acts are also forbidden unless the other partner is watching."

His lips quirk a little. "In that case shower or hot tub...cause after last time we used the shower...well you know how I feel about it, but do you want to risk getting bruised up again?"

His manner is jovial but his eyes are more serious, and his hand reaches out unawares to rub the upper skin of her back sympathetically. Her skin tone has always made her more prone to bruising, as he'd discovered to his absolute horror the morning after they'd both gotten a little bit rough in the shower. Though she's told him on multiple occasions since that she regularly gets bruised running just by bumping into furniture, he's never taken well to seeing any kind of marks on her skin.

Well okay, there had been that one time she'd called him a goodie two shoes and he'd bit her in retaliation, but that had been gentle and the bruise had been gone in less than a day.

'Back on track, Potts.' "Shower. I think we can hold ourselves off until we're back in bed, don't you? Or are you going to need another quickie to hold you over, first?" He keeps inhaling cereal at an astonishing rate - she thinks this might actually be his _third bowl_.

"I'm not the one who was climbing the walls when we met up in the basement last night." His eyes twinkle as he chews. "Not to say that I mind the well applied quickie but _I'm_ not the one who's usually in such a blasted_ hurry_."

'You're not the one who has to look at your ass all week, Stark.' "Then a shower should be no problem at all, should it?" Pepper drains her own bowl of milk then sets it aside. "Should I go get the water started or are you not quite ready to join me?"

"One more bowl." He reaches for the box again. "I feel like I could eat a whole pig at the moment."

"Guess I should have made more bacon." She smiles at him as she pours a dollop of milk into her coffee and stirs it around. "Can't say I'm not surprised though. You don't take the best care of yourself. I think you may actually be starting to lose weight, Stark, just from lack of food and sleep."

Tony shrugs. "It's been a rough week," he replies simply. "Gonna have to call up and yell at Fury again...he's still being an ass about finding more help for the team." Then he shrugs. "It's _Saturday_, Pepper. Let's find better things to talk about than depressing shit we really can't change." He drains his bowl and then just looks at her expectantly.

'I hate when he does that,' something inside her murmurs with a passion. It's one of the things that's been driving her crazy lately in particular...these small but highly important statements he keeps making at various points during the weekend. Tony has never been one to share much of himself or his emotions, much less the day to day pressures that have come along with his superhero identity. 'And when he does finally say something...' It's always on Saturday or Sunday morning. Which would be fine if she thought there was a chance in hell that they'd _talk_ about it on Monday.

Only that never happens because when the workweek starts they're either keeping their distance to avoid temptation or they never see each other because being both Ironman and Tony Stark keeps him so _busy._

She hates knowing his true struggles and emotions when she never gets the chance to truly comfort him.

"I was thinking it might be nice to go out and see a movie tonight." Pepper turns around on the bed so that she can face him, sitting with her legs crossed as she sips at her coffee. "There's a few new ones out, assuming you want to leave the house." Some weekends he does, others like this one he is just too jealous of their limited time to be content to share her with anyone else...

"Kind of hard to avoid the crowds when we go out on the town, Pepper, and you hate dealing with the media. Though I suppose if one in particular is really calling you, we could just buy the late, late show out tonight." He shrugs a little. "God, I think the last time Rhodey and I went to a full theatre movie was...what... Ah yes, Lord of the Rings, The Twin Towers. That was an absolutely _fabulous_ premiere."

Just the way he says that... "You and Rhodes flew down to New Zealand for the world premiere?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. "So did you get to meet all the directors and actors or did they have them squirreled up away from the lowly fan-boy billionaires?"

He shakes his head. "Why deal with the paparazzi just to meet a few people I'd probably get stuck talking to anyway at one of your multitude of benefits? No, we took the Jaguar out to some Podunk drive-in theatre two hours west of the city and spent the _whole day _there completely incognito."

His eyes light up in what is obviously fond memory "They had an almost renaissance festival styled fair set up in the area, and people everywhere with costumes. It was great. I think I actually still have a replica of Gandalf's pipe still stashed down in the workshop somewhere." Pepper considers that, thinks about the advantages of anonymity. And she can see he and Rhodes together, wandering through the crowds like two fanboys at the closest thing to Comic-Con that they'll get.

"You dressed up, didn't you?" She snickers the question after a minute.

His lips take on a suspicious quirk. "I refuse to confirm or deny that matter."

"I'm guessing you went as a dwarf," she says as she finishes her coffee.

He manages to look sufficiently insulted. "I am not _that _short, Potts. I just don't have your heel fetish." He sets down his bowl, and climbs out of the bed leaving the bed sheet behind him. "Rhodey was an Orc...that's all I'll say on the subject." He starts in the direction of the bathroom.

"Dwarf," she says again. "Or Aragorn. Because you wouldn't have managed Gandalf."

"None of the above," he informs her with extreme boredom, opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. "Hurry it up, Potts. The hot water won't last all day long."

"What am I going to have to do - or let you do - to get an answer?" Pepper sets down her empty cup and stops just inside the bathroom door. "Because I really don't see you as an elf." Well okay maybe she did. There has always been something a little bit puckish about Tony.

Tony snickers as he turns on the water and tests the temperature of the stream. "A man is entitled to his secrets, Potts." He steps under the spray and ducks his head under the shower head. "Okay this shower? Is the best thing I put in this whole god-damn house." He's a little hard to understand under the pummeling deluge. She moves in where she can hear him a little better.

"You wouldn't be the first grown man to dress up for a movie premiere," she tells him as she slowly strips out of her pajamas. "Give me a hint, Stark, at least."

He smiles. "Who's the real hero of the second movie, Pepper?"

"Sam," she teases as she steps into the shower. "Because Frodo never would have made it without Sam." She pauses and gulps. "Please tell me you didn't go as Gollum..."

"Oversized feet and a country bumpkin accent. I had a trowel and a pot both tied to the bag on my back."

Pepper laughs out loud as she steps under the spray with him. "While I don't deny your capability for acting Tony, you have managed to surprise me."

"It was Rhodey's idea. You have to admit no one would suspect. Hobbits aren't exactly the type of things people expect me to not make fun of on any given day. It was the perfect cover and as was mutually agreed upon, no blackmail orientated pictures were ever taken." Tony snorts. "I'll give you one better than that. During the talent show we won five hundred bucks. Rhodey chased me around stage for five minutes yelling 'he ain't gonna need his legs, now is he!?'"

Pepper chuckles as she pushes her wet hair back out of her face and reaches for his shampoo. His voice when he speaks again is melancholy. "God it's been _ages_ since we went out and did something like that." There's a wistfulness in his voice she doesn't think she's ever heard before. She files that away in the back of her mind for further consideration later.

There must be some way she can get him a few days of anonymity a month. Maybe she should suggest he shave off the goatee and see how long it'd take people to recognize him. "Head down, Tony. Let me wash your hair."

He ducks his head without the slightest hesitation, purring like a large and overgrown cat as she digs her fingers into his dark locks. But as she massages methodically across his scalp he winces just a bit and pulls away. "Stark," she says the word in warning, and then her hands reach again to that part of his head. It doesn't take her long at all to encounter a small, inch long contusion just above his right ear.

"Tony?" She says the word carefully as she reaches up on her tiptoes. This is in the contract as well - a total reveal of all mission injuries. She'd added the sub-clause the second week when she'd stripped him out of his suit one Friday night and found a bruise as black as night on one half of his ribcage.

"I'm fine. I just smashed my head into something while working down in the shop." He sounds more than a little sheepish at the admission. "I've already rearranged so it can't happen again. And before you ask, 'Mother', yes Jarvis checked it out. It's sore but I don't need any stitches and there's no hint of concussion."

Then to distract her his hands reach first for the soap and then for the wet-slippery skin of her breasts. She shivers and resumes her gentle shampoo. "Do I need to buy you a bicycle helmet, Mr. Stark?" Pepper teases as she tilts his head back into the stream from the shower-head. Her fingers carefully wash the lather from his hair as she leans into his hands, feeling her nipples harden at the touch.

"Only if you get one for yourself as well and let me buy us both mountain bikes," he informs her tartly

"Mountain bikes?" She thinks about that. "You might be able to convince me to go mountain biking." As she lets her hands fall to his shoulders, his slip down to her bottom. He pulls her up against him as he turns them around so he can reciprocate the lather and rinse.

"There are tons of good trails. Though I haven't been out in awhile. Won't be as much of a rush as the suit...but I can't take you up in that with me. You'd get way too cold." His hand are slower then hers had been as he washes her hair. She almost gets the feeling that he's luxuriating in the simple chance to just play with it openly.

"Missing your longer hair style?" She smiles back over her shoulder. "It probably wouldn't look bad in conjunction with your goatee."

"Fire risk in the basement." He shakes his head. "Besides...I'm enough of a babyface with short hair already. Why do you think I grew the goatee to begin with?"

"Because it got you laid, more," Pepper informs him bluntly.

Tony bumps his pelvis against her ass in subtle retribution. "I will have you know that I grew the goatee the same year I cut the hair. And it had nothing to do with getting women."

She turns so that she's facing him. "And what year was that?" Pepper's head falls back into Tony's palms and she holds his shoulders to keep herself steady. Damn, the man is amazing with his hands. Sometimes she thinks she's ready to consider altering their contract just for the chance of daily massages alone.

"I was 22." He sounds more than enthralled. His hands move from her head down her neck to her shoulders, where his fingers dig in. "My God, who do I need to kill on the board for you? Because I swear every week you got the same the same knots in the _exact same five places_..."

"Is that your way of saying I need to start scheduling regular massages?" she asks carefully as her head falls forward to rest against his shoulder. The question is part tease, part careful inquiry into what he's thinking and feeling. Because she hasn't forgotten his half asleep confession from the evening before.

She also hasn't missed the way he just seems to be soaking up comfort from her simple presence today.

Tony chuckles and tilts her head back to rinse the soap out, using the opportunity to leer down openly at the front of her body. "Well you'd have a lot more fun on the weekends if your back weren't in literal spasms most Fridays, Pep." And before she can think of an appropriate reply he lifts her upright and presses thumb just a little bit harder than usual into a certain spot under her right shoulder blade.

The jerk that results is involuntary, as is the sudden burst of heat that runs the length of her spine. "Mmmm... Someone likes that," Tony murmurs over her moan. As she nods in dazed disbelief he nuzzles her cheek, and presses his lips against her ear. She can feel him growing hard against her leg and she sways into him as he repeats the same touch under her other shoulder blade. The results aren't as dramatic, this time but the warmth that runs through her is the same as heat starts building between her legs.

"Knots pressed up against your spine can press down on nerves..." he murmurs as his hands move lower. "They cause back pain and improper posture, not to mention that they _hurt_. What is even worse is the fact that if you get enough of them in your lower back, it can be almost physically impossible for some women to relax enough to come..."

Granted, Pepper has never had that particular problem, but the sudden pressure in the small of her back still causes an unmistakable reaction. She moans and feels her knees start to buckle as the heat between her legs swells even further. Tony, meanwhile, just smiles and wraps an arm around her waist. "Knots are _evil_, Potts. And you always have a ton. Hell, if it wasn't for the question of propriety and the likelihood that we'd get carried away I would probably be willing to offer you a bi-weekly trade."

"What kind of trade?" she asks and her voice sounds woozy in her own ears. God this man is absolutely _lethal_. He should probably be illegal. But then again she's got a spotless criminal record and she'd really like to keep it that way.

"We both have days we would do better to have a massage during the week, Pepper - for you it's after long meetings. And there are times after missions that I have to force myself to even get out of_ bed_..." His fingers keep circling, pressing insistently as they follow the knobs of her spine down the lower half of her back. By the time he reaches her tailbone, she's not sure she can even speak anymore.

Instead she turns her head and tilts it up and slides her lips against his. She fumbles behind her for the control to the water, eventually managing to turn it off, though not before momentarily showering them both with almost uncomfortably cool water. He shudders in shock at the sudden change of temperature, than starts to laugh as he reaches down and lifts her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his thighs.

"Well if that's what I get for making the offer, than I guess I won't even bother to ask..." And he seals his lips atop hers as he carries her back into the bedroom.

She smiles against his lips before pulling away long enough to murmur, "Consider our contract amended." Then she returns to his mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip as she runs her hands against his cheeks. As interesting as it'd be to see him clean shaven, she _really_ likes it when his beard has grown in.

"You really like the hair, don't you?" When Tony asks he sounds more than a little amused. "Kind of surprises me," he admits as he sits down on the edge of the bed with her still straddling his lap. "I'd have expected it would irritate somebody with such sensitive skin."

"Think about that one for a minute, Stark." Pepper tangles her hands in his hair and gently pulls his head back so she can kiss and suck at the delicate skin of his throat.

"Yeah well, that line of hair and skin products you use works really good for both of us as it turn out." He shudders as her lips trace his jaw line. "I don't get complaints that it's scratchy anymore."

"I admit to having an ulterior motive." She nips at the lobe of his ear before sucking it into her mouth. His reaction is unmistakable. Between the soft groan low in his chest, the hands that tighten around her waist, and the erection that swells against her hip... Well, it's always good to know when she's doing things right.

"Pepper, you introduced me to that salon brand within six months of me hiring you. Remember how you gave me that little bottle of hand lotion? If you had ulterior motives that long ago I might just have to strangle you..."

He stands again and turns, flipping their positions so she's lying out on her back and he's stretched out halfway on top of her. "Oh. I thought you meant the lotion you borrowed last week." Pepper's eyes open and she glares at him with eyes that are a little unfocused. "I really didn't need to know that I've helped your sex life in some way, Stark."

Tony quirked his eyebrows. "Get off your high horse, Potts. Like I don't know you've always had a thing for my ass." His next kiss is tender. "Things between us just happened at the right place and time for both of us I guess."

"There's a difference in having a thing for your ass and having a thing for an ass." She tells him sternly. Still, she arches her neck as he starts pressing wet kisses against it.

"Pepper, it's not as if there's much to envy about the space in between." He groans and shifts against her, erection bobbing as a hand slides down to part her thighs. "I guarantee you that before this the only person getting regular, meaningful sex was actually you."

There's nothing she can say to that, mainly because his fingers tangle in the nest of curls between her legs and tug just a little.

But she pulls him down for a passionate kiss as her hips arch towards his. After that there's really no talking. Just his lips on her lips, her breasts, her belly, then on her thighs. "Now this is what I promised the other day," he murmurs as he kneels between her legs and deliberately licks his lips. Her eyes widen in shock, because _this_ e-mail she remembers and she's pretty sure right now that he's _insane_.

Just because he wants to eat her out for hours doesn't mean she agrees. In theory she does, but in theory she'd also like to be able to enjoy it for hours. And she wants to come with him inside her.

"Tony, about that..."

He raises an eyebrow. "What? Don't tell me that now _you _need a nap?" There's a definite challenge in his voice but the warmth in his eyes is also stunning.

'Has this been here all along? Have I somehow managed to miss this?' She doesn't know exactly how else to state it other than that the man literally has his heart in his eyes. She wants to believe that it's something recent...that she hasn't missed the signs, so she searches her memory. She thinks she might remember seeing hints of it before Afghanistan even, but she is currently distracted by the sensation of large, rough hands running up the inside of her thighs.

"Please," she murmurs. "I want the first time to be with you inside me." And she does, she realizes after a moment. Hell, it may be more than a want; it may be _need_. Because this weekend - this dance of theirs in general - has been as much about avoiding things as it has been about making any kind of contact. Yes - they love to push each other - it is part of their natures, but she is beginning to realize that there is a difference between pushing the boundaries together and somehow remaining apart.

Jerking him off is an addiction she lives for, and eating her out might well be his favorite activity, but neither of the above has ever brought them quite as close together as they are when they were flesh to flesh - literally entwined as one body.

And so she admits that, because it doesn't diminish either of them. "Please, I need _you_ first." She reaches down and cups his cheek. "And I'll need you last. But in between you're free to do as you please for as long as I can take it. Just stop holding back." Her lips quirk. "It's not like I won't get you back later." But as long as she has got him _now_, she can promise him a lot.

Something flashes in his eyes for just a moment. She's startled to realize it might be _pain_. But then his hands are entwining with hers and he's dragging himself back up to lay alongside her body. In the end he's not touching her at all excepting her hands, but instead he is simply sprawling out on his back.

He smiles at her in invitation. "Well since you asked so nicely, Potts, I don't have any objection. But this is _your_ request, so this time _you_ set the pace."

With their hands still joined, Pepper slides on top of him, scooting down until she can feel the head of his arousal against her. "Tony, Tony, Tony," she murmurs as she tilts her hips and presses back. He just barely slides into her and she stops, holding them there as his hands tighten almost painfully around hers. She straightens up and takes another inch inside, then another, and another until her body has accepted all of him and she lets her weight press his hips down into the mattress.

She's trembling and breathing hard with the effort it takes not to start moving immediately, but as she looks down into his face it's all worth it.

His teeth are clenched, his face is red, his head is thrown back and his extended arms are shaking. He's giving her everything - _all _his patience and control. She's literally astride him and he's bound by nothing but a mix of need and faith. His need is for the kind of relief that apparently only she can offer. His faith promises that what he needs will come and he will bring her equal pleasure in return. And there is trust there too - trust so pure it steals her breath away.

'He loves you, he loves you, he loves you...' Pepper laughs a little as she starts to move over him. And though some might think that they've wasted the last nine months with their little deal, Pepper knows they haven't because it's brought them both to a place where they can acknowledge and accept their feelings. And since she's kissing him desperately and can't speak she makes love to him with her body, because this is _her_ and this is_ him _and words have never really gotten the job done right.

And beneath her Tony is coming apart, shaking and groaning her name. His hands are trailing her skin and caressing her hair and cupping her breasts and then finally reclaiming her hands. "Come for me, Love," he murmurs, and from the lack of panic is his expression after she's absolutely certain he's unaware of what his eyes and mouth are saying.

She takes advantage of the body that's lying under her for exactly that purpose, circling her hips so that his thrusts press up against her clit just right. "Oh my god, oh fuck, _Tony_..." She whimpers his name as he pulls at her, adjusting her just enough so that he slides into her _perfectly_, and then she's coming...she's flying apart.

And it's everything, the feel of him so deep inside her. To feel his hands still wrapped around hers acting as a strong but insistent tether.

When it's over she lies there and fights the impulse to cry. Not so much because she's sad as because she's just so overwhelmed. And some of that must show on her face because Tony carefully lifts one hand to cup her cheek.

"You okay?" he asks her softly.

"I'm…" She's with him, and they are on the same page even if he doesn't know it, and she's going to put their contract through the _shredder _first thing Monday morning.

There's so much that she's not ready to put into words yet that Pepper doesn't even try to finish her sentence. She just smiles at him, and from the smile he gives her in return it's the answer he was waiting for.

"Are you going to take your turn now or suggest stopping for a snack...again?" she teases as she presses her lips against his shoulder. His skin is hot, and silky, and salty, and she can't help her tongue from darting out for a taste.

"I am kind of hungry," he admits with a wry smile. "But this time I can wait."

"As long as you're hungry for me, that's just fine." Her teeth nip at him. "Com'on, Stark. Pick a position, any position. It's seven o'clock on Saturday morning and I've only come twice. You're behind schedule."

The way his eyes widen is all the confirmation she needs. "My God, you really _have_ been keeping track." She smacks his left shoulder. "You are such a_ guy_, Anthony."

"Well _obviously_ yes. And a man needs a hobby." Tony informs her a bit archly, as he twitches pleasurably inside her. "And if I get to pick this time then I suggest hands and knees."

"Right." It figures that he'd go in the complete opposite direction of the position they'd just been in.

They both moan as she lifts herself off him, shuddering as her inner muscles grip at him as he slips out. He twirls his finger indicating it is her turn to spin around. "Slight change of options here...old fashioned doggy style, or sitting on the edge of the bed with you facing away from me. Your choice."

Like there was any difference from a practical standpoint, either way she'd have minimal ability to change the angle or set the pace. "You are _such_ a control freak." She shakes her head in bemusement as she carefully slides off him.

"Nice to meet you, kettle. I case you forgot Pepper, your last name is Potts."

"Oh shut up," she tells him as she kneels on the bed with her back to him. "Propped up on my arms or resting my head against the bed?" If he's going to get all bossy about it, she'd like to understand exactly what he wants.

He shrugs. "Whatever you prefer. Which one is easier on your lower back?"

Definitely her head pillowed on her arms, then. "You are such a classicalist," she snorts as she assumes the instructed position.

"You say that like it's a _bad_ thing," he snickers, scooting up behind her and using the tip of one warm finger to gently test her opening.

"Mmmm..." She pushes back into him. "Trust me, Tony: you're going to have no problems getting in."

"Never assumed otherwise." his finger slides in a little deeper. "God, you're just so _tight_...how on earth do you stay that way?"

"There's exercises," she says breathlessly as she focuses on the movement of that single finger.

"Pepper, yes there's Kegels, but then there's you. I swear that it's absolutely unnatural. I love the fuck out of it." He removes his finger and edges up closer enough to align his tip with her entrance. "I think of that first time...God, it was almost over before it even started."

'Not just for you Tony.' They'd both been wound tight like springs. "It'd been at least a year since I had sex by the time we got down to it," she pants. His hands have come to a rest on her hips, keeping her from thrusting back against him before he's ready.

"It'd been two years three months and six days," he automatically corrects, thrusting deep as he finishes the sentence. "Believe me, Potts. When you're getting laid I know the difference."

She groans, rocking with the motion of his body and then back against it. Equal and opposite reactions. "You were keeping track of my sex life?" Her voice is just a little strangled.

"Pepper, you _glowed_ for like three days _every time you got laid_. Yes I noticed, it was distracting as _hell_."

"Why? You were getting laid at least once a week yourself." He's doing that thing she both loves and loathes: the torturously slow rhythm where he withdraws nearly all the way before entering her again with a hard thrust only to pause before withdrawing. It drives her crazy _every single time_, reversing their usual roles. It's not every day that she's the impatient one and he's the one with the control.

At the end of this particular withdrawal he circles his hips a little. "Pepper, you can't very well tell me you don't understand the concept of wanting what is just out of reach."

He thrusts back in. "Just because you were the best damn thing that ever happened to me professionally didn't mean that I was sexually _blind_. You, Ms Potts, are hot as hell, and considering how jealous I used to get I'm surprised I didn't end up causing some kind of aneurysm in my brain the first time I made that connection..."

He shakes his head. "After that I just really, _really_ hated sharing you."

"Funny...that's kinda why it never worked out with any of those guys. They were all jealous of you. How I always dropped everything for you." She's dizzy as he slowly fucks her. Dizzy from the truth of his words.

"I'm not the only one with jealousy issues, Potts. Or should I just call you 'Little Miss Finally Made a Move Because You Thought I Was Trying To Get Lucky'..."

Her eyes open in surprise, and she can see him grinning over her shoulder. "I never said that," she tells him, not denying the charge, but not fessing up either.

He snorts. "Tell that to someone who can't read your fucking mind, Pepper. You changed tactics virtually out of the blue. Considering the fact that I'd been showing interest for months, it's the only option I can think of that makes any sense."

"Who says sense had anything to do with the reason I made a move?" This time when he withdraws she tries to follow him but his hands keep her where she is...motionless and frustrated.

"Because unlike me Pepper, you mostly don't _trust_ your instincts." He starts to speed up his thrusting, finally giving her the deeper stimulation she craves. "Which is kind of sad because you're smart as hell and I don't think I know anyone with more sheer guts than you..."

Pepper moans in relief as he starts moving faster. There is something to be said for slow and steady, but in this position he gets so _deep_ inside her and that just makes her need more and more of him. "So are you ready to come yet?" he whispers, low and filthy in her ear. His tone sends a shiver down her spine that feels like it hits her squarely in the clit.

And so of course she shakes her head because she _really_ likes it when he gets playful. "This position isn't worth much, I'm getting kind of bored with it."

"You're a lousy liar, Pep." His chuckle is a low rumble as his lips close around the outer rim of her right ear. His hands are planted on either side of her head now, supporting him as he teases her with his mouth. She can't let that go unchallenged of course, so she goes for the only part of his body she can easily reach. She only needs to shift her head to be able to nip at the tip of his thumb.

"If I'm coming again Anthony Stark, you're sure as hell going with me." It's a warning and promise both as she tightens around him.

He groans at that and abandons all attempts at actually controlling the rhythm. He's moving quick and hard, burying himself in her over and over while his soft grunts fill her ears along with the occasional softly muttered curse. One of his hands presses against the small of her back, bowing her just a little bit more so that he can slide in that extra fraction of an inch and Pepper can't help the soft cries that fall from her mouth as he does. When they both come it's with gasping breaths and shaking limbs.

"Stark?" Pepper murmurs when she can finally breathe.

The man still inside her shudders and she can both see and feel the way his arms are shaking from strain. "Yes, Pepper?"

"I suggest that you move now, before you fall down and crush me."


	3. Chapter 3

They come in from a late lunch Sunday afternoon

They come in from a late lunch Sunday afternoon. Tony's already wrapped around her as they stumble through the door, and the moment it's closed behind them he's on his knees, pushing her skirt up with desperate hands. He groans when he finds her already wet, and then he relentlessly pushes her towards climax twice. Finally, when she can't stand on her own any longer, he picks her up and carries her to the couch where he makes love to her with a intensity that's been growing every Sunday afternoon for weeks now.

It's only when they're both panting and sated to the bone that Pepper even recognizes the pattern and its meaning.

With her hands still tangled in his sweat-damp hair, she connects this behavior to his quiet desolation on Friday night when he thought she might leave him while he slept. The conclusion she reaches is neither easy nor pretty: Tony Stark is mad for her, absolutely starving for her company.

Their interactions during the week might even be making things _worse _because after the weekends they're almost a parody of what they should be. Pepper's only starting to see it, but it seems that doesn't really matter. She's just about as heartsick over leaving as he is over having her leave.

This realization is only magnified when he goes to fill the hot-tub: yet another ritual they've enacted for more months now than she knows how to count. Usually right around 4:45 on Sunday afternoons he draws her a hot bath and then, once she's soaking with her hair up, he waggles his eyebrows and heads down to the basement with a smile and a kiss to remember him by.

It's his equivalent of letting her slip out of the bedroom unannounced and uncontested. The only difference is that he doesn't call himself a cab. Instead he retreats to his workshop and putters so he doesn't have to actually watch her leave.

Until now she's let him get away with it - because she hadn't realized she'd had the opportunity for any other option. And even now that she gets it, she realizes that she has no choice but to let him come to get her and lead her into the bathroom. He does so with gentle kisses that linger a little too long to be casual but aren't actually passionate either.

They're kisses for the sake of kisses, she recognizes - inspired by one last chance to be close before the next weekend.

The fact that she intends to leave and _come back_ is the only reason she can stand

there and take them.

So she takes his wistful affection and offers it back, teasing him gently before his eventual retreat to the basement. She sends him off with a pat to the butt before she starts arranging things with Jarvis. The old contract isn't nearly enough for either of them anymore, and she knows it. It's hurting them both instead of bringing relief so she refuses to abide by it any longer.

She intends to actually _burn_ the thing, but not until they're both there to see it.

The new contract is one page and one sentence. "On this eighth day of May, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark do agree to be lovingly faithful to one another." There are no clauses, no sub-clauses, no catches. There's especially no limits, because both of them are being strangled by the limits they'd set before.

If they're going to do this, she vows, then they'll do it like any other couple, taking it one day at a time. Love isn't a business proposition, she acknowledges to herself. Well okay, maybe it is a variant on the non-hostile takeover.

Pepper tells Jarvis to print it from her office printer as she gets dressed and goes home. She's only brought enough clothes for the weekend and she'd like something clean to wear tomorrow. Then to be on the safe side, she packs enough clothes for several days and swings by the grocery store for dinner on her way back to Tony's. When she gets back the mansion is quiet. According to Jarvis, Tony hasn't even stirred from the basement yet to eat dinner.

Which worries her because it just highlights how lax he's been about caring for himself lately. Moving herself in may have other advantages, not the least of which is a regular schedule for _both _of them that's sustainable.

She's fairly certain that with her presence to provide distraction, Tony might be persuaded to put the suit down long enough to eat, drink and sleep on a regular basis. And if she has to play hard ball on the subject..? Well as they sometimes say, she's had plenty of practice.

She sets the food she's carried in from the car on the kitchen's main counter and walks over to console on the wall. "Jarvis, please give me a current check in on Tony."

The AI does as she requests without question or comment. The picture that resolves on the screen is not at all what she's expecting to see. Tony isn't at work at his workbench as she'd actually expected. Instead he's sitting on the couch with a bottle of some kind on the table in front of him. She'd thought that she would find him hard at work – using his gadgets as distraction.

He's just sitting quietly staring at the wall, though, with a stillness that - for him at least - seems completely unnatural. 'Damn it.' Alcohol and no food is not a good beginning.

She crosses to the liquor cabinets and finds every bottle within accounted for. The panic dims a little. 'Just wine then.' "Jarvis, how many bottles of wine has Tony had from the cellar?"

The AI whirs slightly as it pulls up the wine cellar's inventory. "As far as I can tell this is his second glass of the 1987 Cabernet Sauvignon."

Nothing too bad then, she realizes after a moment. Nothing strong enough to get him really drunk, just a little bit buzzed. If it had been otherwise she would have literally _strangled_ him. Because it would have meant waiting until he sobered up to speak her mind.

Now though, they won't have to waste any more time on doubts or second thoughts. This will be settled or at least addressed by the end of the night. Reassured by this thought she loads up a plate with the hot fried chicken she bought at the store, piles on grapes and a cold coleslaw salad and a large mound of mashed potatoes. Then she sticks two forks in her back pocket and starts down the stairs to the basement.

She's not sure what she's going to say, but she figures that she'll have something figured out by the time she reaches the bottom. Her bare feet make no noise as she descends the stairs. Even the sound of the door to the garage opening is soft and barely noticeable. In the end she thinks it's the scent of the food she carries that makes Tony turn around and look at her. His eyes go wide and for a moment his face is an open book to her. Then it closes and he turns around and Pepper's confidence suffers a blow as for the first time she wonders if what Tony really wants is more time with her.

Maybe she's been interpreting everything wrong and what he's really been doing has been trying to find a way to pull back emotionally so that their relationship is purely physical and nothing more...

'_No,_' she tells herself harshly as she stiffens her spine. 'You are not going to think like that. You are not going to get afraid and chicken out now. Besides, you're smarter than that. You _know _him better than that. You're _not wrong _about this.'

"Mind if I join you?" It's a rhetorical question and after pulling the forks out of her pockets Pepper takes a seat before he can answer anyway. Then she hands him a fork and takes a big bite out of the of the pile of mashed potatoes.

Tony's mouth has opens and closes several times before he speaks. "Want some wine?" he asks after a lingering couple of seconds. She's not sure if he's figured it out why she is here or if he is just too afraid to ask. "I don't have a second glass, but I was planning on finishing the bottle off tonight anyway..." He continues, putting down the fork that she gave him and reaching over to grab a piece of chicken as he offers her the bottle.

"I think we can probably share a glass, Tony. Considering how often your tongue is in my mouth..." She pours a little more wine into the glass and takes a sip. It's not a particularly bad year but the unexpected acidity still makes her lips curl a little in disgust. Tony meanwhile, continues eating. Not looking at her directly but not trying to avoid eye contact either. He eats chicken and grapes, using his fingers and bypassing the fork on the table entirely.

When he reaches for the mashed potatoes, though, she intercepts his hand with a snort.

"Okay _gross_," she informs him a little softly. "I mean, do you know how much grease and grit must be on _everything_ down here? If you want coleslaw or potatoes use a _fork_, because I'm eating them too and I don't like the taste of axle grease."

The statement is meant to be teasing but her gentle sarcasm makes him flinch; he nods his head and takes a sip straight from the wine bottle. "You've already had too much of that if you can swallow so easily," she informs him as she takes the bottle away from him. Then she takes his hand and waits futilely for him to look at her.

It takes a strained thirty seconds before she realizes he's not going to. "Tony, what's wrong?" Her confidence wavers again, but she's not backing out until he _tells _her that she's pushing too far. Because until then, anything could be wrong.

"Whatever you're here to do or say, Pepper...just be merciful and do it quickly," he finally mutters. "Don't worry about sparing my feelings. For God's sake, please just get it _done_."

Pepper melts inside as she realizes what he thinks she's here to do. He thinks she's here to break things off, that she's going to decide to move things back to how they used to be before they became intimate. And for one tiny second, she wants to throttle him for being so _stupid_.

Of course, she also doesn't feel so bad about being blind to this herself if he's suffering from the same affliction. She debates how she's going to go about this – the right way to frame the words to get her point across.

But in the end, as before, the words are just too heavy. And really not all that necessary.

And so she leans forward and kisses him – the kiss of a woman arriving home at the end of a long day.

She lets her breath mingle with his a few minutes, and when she pulls back, Tony's looking distinctly dazed. She has to hide a smile - he's still confused she knows, but at least he's reasonably sure she's not leaving. "You're hogging the couch," she tells him chidingly. "Scoot the hell over and try to pick out a decent movie to watch."

He stares at her a moment, before he nods and slides over to the other end of the couch.

And that's how the evening goes - with them on the couch eating chicken and cuddling. She occasionally feeds him bites of potatoes and grapes until he waves the offer of any more. Then they share the remains of the wine bottle, until ten o'clock or so when his eyes are starting to droop.

She uses the remote to turn the set off. "Bed." She says the word softly. And Tony nods, though she can see a world of questions in his eyes...

He's bewildered and a little scared, but he's playing along, accepting the change fairly sedately. She knows he still doesn't understand the switch in game plan, but she's fairly certain that he'll sort it out eventually.

So the two of them go upstairs where she changes into her pajamas. "No clothing in my bed," Tony grumps a little sleepily.

"Go to sleep, Stark," she murmurs, leaning over to kiss him again softly. She snuggles back until she's nestled against his body and feels the subtle hitch of his breath at the touch of skin against skin. "You have a meeting at nine a.m. tomorrow. I'm usually up by five a.m. Go to sleep now and tomorrow you might be able to convince me to spend the time I'd normally commute doing something else entirely."

He blinks a few times at that, and then his eyes close in sleep.

She wakes the next morning to the feel of his lips on the back of her neck.

Tony, who is still uncertain of their new circumstances (both how they came about, and - more importantly - how long they'll last) actually makes it through to five o'clock Monday afternoon before he tracks Pepper down. He finds her in her office at five o' three, closing her laptop and shutting the desktop and printer down...

"So..uhm...yeah," he manages to greet her, a little lamely.

"Um yeah?" Pepper asks with one raised eyebrow as she leans back in her chair. "What's brought on this uncharacteristic eloquence, Mr. Stark?"

He opens his mouth and closes it again, in a move that is actually comical. "What...Uhm. What would you like to do for dinner tonight?"

'Coward,' she thinks with a distressing amount of fondness. "Mexican sounds good, if you don't mind. I feel the need for a little bit of spice tonight."

Pepper bends to put her laptop in its case, purposely flashing him a look down her shirt as she does so. The reward is a gulp and a groan he doesn't entirely manage to withhold.

"Eat out or delivery?" He asks the next question carefully, trying not to get distracted by the obvious view that she's presenting. 'You're a scientist,' he informs himself firmly, 'and when presented with new data a cautious scientist takes readings and does a little scouting until they get the lay of the land.'

Unfortunately for both of them, the lay he's referring to is not the kind that's going to get her out of her shirt any faster. But that might be good for now, because it's been a long day and right now he's actually hungry for _food_.

"Eat out." Pepper straightens and holds out a hand so he can help her stand up.

He takes it without question. "Real Mexican? Or are you not into that level of spicy? I know a great authentic place on the east side, but the decor isn't exactly upper level. Food's phenomenal though if you go for that sort of thing."

"Tony, I go to Mexican restaurants for the food, not the decor. Besides, the experience isn't the same if the decor isn't just a _little _bit campy."

He nods. "Have you ever been down to Guadalajara and tried the little Mom and Pop place that's set up on the main public beach?"

"I've seen it, but I've never actually stopped there." She pulls her purse out of her desk drawer. "They have good food then, I take it?"

"_Amazing_." He looks her up and down. "So when did you get down there? And what are my odds there are pictures from the trip with you in a bikini?"

His grin is boyish and only mildly naughty. The look of a man content to tease the woman he loves. The look of a man content to be, and eat good food at a cheesy if authentic Mexican restaurant. She knows right then that she's made the right decision.

"Wouldn't you like to know? And if you're very, very good, I might tell you someday." She side steps him and walks towards the door. "However, since we'll both starve before we manage to make it down to Guadalajara, where do you want to go?" The look she throws him over her shoulder speaks volumes. "Because it's after five o'clock and I'm _starving_."

He grins - eyes twinkling at the multitude of ways he could choose to interpret that. "Give me five minutes to get all the grease off then meet me down in the basement. You pick the car. Keys are where they always are."

Then he all but flies down the hallway to the master bedroom to change. His grin is almost enough to make her forget about eating. It supercharges her, settles right in the middle of her chest with a pulsating warmth that makes her think she knows exactly what it's like to be Tony.

The only difference is that it's not an arc reactor that makes her capable of doing superhuman things...it's the possibility of making him smile like that again.

And again tomorrow.

And the day after.

She looks down at the high heels and pants suit she's wearing. Like hell is she going out for real Mexican in what she's already wearing. For one thing, it's messy, and this suit cost her like a thousand dollars. For another it's five o'clock, and if she's going to set a clear distinction between work and not work time, she's starting now and she's leading by example.

Luckily, she's got a few "spare" outfits here at the house. Yes, for the most part they'd always spent their weekends sequestered away with each other, but Tony does have the occasional whim - or he gives in to her occasional whims - and she would need something that was...different...to wear out.

Between that and the bag she brought with her she's fairly certain she'll find something.

She runs into Tony as he's leaving the bedroom, and she slips past him with a murmured, "Need to change too before we go."

He smirks and follows her back into the master bedroom, leaning on the doorframe to presumably watch. "Just hurry up, Potts. You're not the only one who's starving."

"What's wrong, Stark? Gone too long without?" She looks him up and down before disappearing inside the walk-in closet. "I gave you five minutes," she calls to him. "Time for you to do the same. Why don't you go get one of the engines warmed up?"

"Because I told you that you could pick the ride." He doesn't look in the slightest bit inclined to do any budging. He winks, "And as you know, Pepper, I do my best to keep my word."

"Lately, yes." she shoots back, clearly indicating that she remembers when that wasn't always the case. And from the number of meetings, conferences, and lunches she's had to track him down for when he's been late, maybe her tone is even a little understandable.

"'Now' is all I can change Pepper.." His voice is only mildly apologetic.

Pepper comes out of the closet, dressed in a pair of very tight jeans and a faux-vintage concert t-shirt. These are her "incognito" clothes. Well, the shirt is at least. She's wearing the pants because she knows how hard a time he has keeping his eyes off her ass when she's in them.

The reward for her wardrobe choice is the flaring of Tony's nostrils, and a very slight tightening of his right fist. "So shall we go?" he asks her with a slightly high pitched voice.

She gestures with a similar smile. "Lead the way, Stark. I'm coming."

Tony wonders if he's done something for which Pepper has decided to kill him. Except, being Pepper Potts, she's decided to leave absolutely no evidence of foul play. No one would ever expect Tony Stark to die of self-restraint. Though, he suspects the symptoms will be remarkably like exhaustion. Once they got to the restaurant, Pepper had asked if he minded being the designated driver for the night, and when he'd agreed, she'd ordered a margarita.

Though, maybe she hadn't know that the drinks here came in glasses the size of her head. Her eyes had certainly widened in surprise.

He'd smiled at her when she managed maybe half of it then tilted his head. "Need some help? Because I'd be willing and we can always call Happy."

"We might attract some attention if a limo pulls up outside." Pepper is leaning against him, a silly, happy little smile on her face. So he doesn't point out that they are already attracting attention; if anyone had a problem with his cuddling with his girlfriend in public, they could simply stop staring.

"Then we'll walk a few blocks over and meet him somewhere less conspicuous. Or do you _want_ to get plastered tonight?"

"I am seriously considering it. Because you can't even taste the alcohol in that thing, and the strawberries are fresh." Pepper leans forward briefly to take another bite of her chimichanga.

Tony snickers. "Knock yourself out then, Potts. Just don't puke all over my car."

She raises an eyebrow at that warning in silent rebuke.

They spend the next hour and a half just eating and joking, stealing bits of food from each other's plates since they'd ordered different entrees. The food is every bit as good as Tony promised, and Pepper makes a mental note to make sure they come back here on a regular basis.

By the time the waiter offers desert she's definitely buzzed though, and Tony laughs a little bit as he refuses the desert menu. "Thank you," He tells the twenty something blond, "but I think she's scary enough already without adding a sugar high on top of it."

She doesn't argue. As Tony helps her get out of their booth she can't help but giggle and finally come to a standing rest right up against him once he gets her to her feet. Neither of them are unaware of his lingering erection. He smiles down at her. "Come on. It's time for all good Potts to go home and get some sleep."

"Mmm...home." Her mouth curls up into a contented little smile. "That sounds perfect."

He tucks her into the curve of his side, throwing down several bills on the table, including a incredibly generous tip to the waiter. "They never hover," he informs her when she raises an eyebrow. "The food is phenomenal and no one has ever asked for an autograph or to shake my hand. Sometimes it's just nice to be a regular person, you know?"

He leads her from the dimly lit restaurant into the moonlit night outside. She walks passively by his side as he leads her over to the passenger side door. Then she stops and tugs him down for a lingering kiss that she quickly pours more and more passion into.

He returns it for a moment or so before his hands retreat and he gently pushes her back and away from him.

"Pepper, you're _drunk_," he informs her softly. Then he pulls out his car keys and clicks their ride open. He's got her in the passenger seat and buckled in before she can speak.

When he climbs into the driver's seat and glances over at her, it's obvious that while Pepper might be drunk, she's not incapacitated yet.

Her eyes are narrowed as she looks at him, but he's pretty sure she's not glaring at him...just trying to figure out what just happened. Or maybe what exactly his objection is. "Tony Stark, we are already lovers so it's well established that I enjoy sleeping with you. Why the hell does it matter if I'm drunk or not?"

He sighs. "You're already out of the norm for you and me, Pepper. And in case it's escaped your notice, I'm kind of in love with you - which means I don't take this any farther than kissing until you can tell me _sober_ why you're suddenly changing the rules."

Her brow crinkles. "I'm breaking the original contract. I thought that should be obvious."

"Your actions were a pretty good indication, yes. But you were the one who started with the contracts, and now you're apparently ready to fucking end it." He shrugs "This has always been you game. I figured that you would start talking when you were ready. In the meantime though, I'm not taking any chances."

"End it?" She raises one eyebrow. "The only thing I'm 'ending' here is a relationship that wasn't benefiting either of us."

"You're destroying the web you created to rationalize your way into a relationship that scared you to death." He looks apologetic when she flinches a little, then shrugs. "It's not like I don't understand the concept, Pepper." He sighs then. "Given my history, I can't exactly blame you."

Then his eyes turn serious and her brushes a lock of hair back off her forehead. "But I've waited six months to gain your trust. I'll be damned if I blow it by rushing into something unless I'm sure it's what you really want. One night is _not _too long to wait if the result is your waking up tomorrow and saying that you love me instead of you're leaving."

It sounds like they're both talking about the same thing, but Pepper's confused nonetheless. "It's not my intention to leave you, you do understand that, right?"

"I understand you mean it now. I'm just making sure that you'll also mean it in the morning." He sighs very deeply. "I should have just called Happy and we could have shared that fucking drink."

"I don't see why it matters." she says a little rebelliously. He smiles at her with an honest affection that's both annoying and compelling. "What's different is I finally get to stop fucking you and start making love to you instead. And Pepper, I'd really like to know that you're sober enough to grasp the _difference_ when I finally do so."

"You make love to me every Sunday afternoon." She rolls her eyes. "Do you honestly think I never noticed the difference? Just because it took me until yesterday to figure out _why_..."

He sighs. "It's the _principle_, Potts. Or am I not allowed to have any of those?" He reaches across the stick shift and takes her hand. "I love you, remember? I just want to do this right." He waggles his eyebrows at her. "Besides Potts, I said no sex. I didn't also exclude some serious making out."

"You're impossible," she mutters, though she twines her fingers through his tightly.

"I'm not the only one," he tells her tartly. "Do I get to shred that damn contract when we get home?"

"My plans had involved a bonfire." She admits.

He snickers. "I can happily supply the match for that."

They drive a few more minutes, in what amounts to complete silence. He does nothing more noticeable than keep holding her hand.. "Sooooo," he says calmly when they reach the front gate and he dials the security code into the gate's access panels, "What are we looking at for new terms if the old contract's void?"

He may sound casual but Pepper can feel the tension in his body. There's no other reason for him to be holding her hand so tightly. "The new contract should be sitting in my printer tray still," she says without revealing a thing about what terms are included.

"That's not very fair. I didn't get any chance for negotiations." His voice is even but there's still an undercurrent of uneasiness - the acknowledgment that once again, she's the one with all the power.

"You of course have the option of correcting anything you felt I left out, or taking out anything you don't agree with, but I think you'll probably be surprised."

His tension eases a little as he pulls into a parking spot and shuts of the car. "Then I suggest we go upstairs and take a look."

They walk up the stairs side by side - mainly because Pepper's have just a little bit of trouble navigating them. She mutters something to him about being used to wearing heels which makes him laugh. It's not until they reach her office that Pepper falls back a little, surprisingly eager to see his response to her version of their contract.

Tony takes off his shoes right outside the door. Then plops in her desk chair and pats his lap. "Well go ahead and get it and then come and sit. I've heard that it's best to talk terms when both parties are comfy."

"You just like having me in your lap," she tells him as she obeys. It isn't as if she doesn't enjoy BEING in his lap, after all.

"No point in denying it," he says without hesitation, and takes the paper from her hand. His eyes widen slightly and he chokes. "Uhm Pepper, are you absolutely _certain_ this is what you typed up earlier?"

"I didn't type up anything. I dictated to Jarvis..." Pepper turns Tony's hand so she can see what he's looking at. "This is a marriage license."

Tony's shoulders are starting to shake. "All right, enough old man. Just stop with the pranks and print out whatever it was she originally came up with."

There's a momentary pause and the printer prints again. Pepper gets up to retrieve the document and chokes herself when she reads it. "_Marriage Vows_?" She narrows her eyes at Tony. "Okay he's technically _your_ child. So you get to reason with him."

"Jarvis, can we please save the marriage stuff for after I've had the chance to at least propose? Just print out whatever file Pepper created last night since she's apparently too drunk to remember exactly what it is she said."

The printer prints again and Pepper looks at it suspiciously. "Addresses and names of justices of the peace," she tells him faintly. "Jarvis, this isn't funny. Just print up the damn contract already!"

She gets no response, and neither does Tony. They both sit in silence, with Tony's eyebrow raising further and further.

"Jarvis, you're not going to bully us into this. We'll just find another printer."

The AI flashes the lights in what is clearly displeasure. "Sir, I politely suggest that every printer in this house will refuse to print anything but that marriage license until it is signed..." There's a momentary pause. "Or at least until you start giving me permission to turn off the cameras in the main master bedroom."

Pepper chokes back a laugh. "Tony," she says in a strangled voice. "Perhaps you ought to give Jarvis permission to turn off his cameras in whatever room we happen to be...occupying."

Tony rolls his eyes. "What are you whining about you miserable bucket of bolts? It's not as if you have even have the proper equipment to feel genuine envy…"

"Sir, to be frank I am sick and tired of watching _both_ of your mooning."

"I'm sure he means both metaphorically and physically." Pepper's having a hard time not laughing by this point.

Tony snorts. "You're preaching to the choir, Old man. But unfortunately, that subject's not entirely up to me."

"Jarvis, I promise Tony will give you some control over your cameras first thing tomorrow. Now can we please have the real contract?"

"Very well." The AI sounds affronted but the printer starts printing a final time.

"Thank you, Jarvis," Pepper makes sure to say. "And I'll make sure he remembers to give you control over the microphones too." She brings back the contract and presents it to Tony, who looks at it a moment then and adds two more words.

'Love faithfully and cherish' he adds before handing it back with a smile. "For me at least, this should do." Then he thinks about it a moment, takes it back and scribble something additional underneath...

"Okay one more exception." He writes a bullet points and scribbles down the words 'absolutely no clothes in bed.'

Pepper shakes her head. "Tony, there are some days when a woman needs to wear clothes to bed."

He considers. "Fine. No clothes in bed on the weekend." He adds the additional three words and hands the paper back again.

"I think I can agree to this." Then she grins at him. "But maybe I should wait until I'm 'sober.'"

He narrows his eyes then hands her the paper. "Way I see it you get one clause of your own. After all we're in an equal relationship."

Pepper thinks about it for a long time. Then finally she writes, 'One night a month to be spent with anyone but one another.'

He considers this a moment, then nods his head. "You can have up to one evening a week if you really feel you need it." He dimples a little. "After all, a man needs a little time down in his garage if he's going to satisfy all his ladies."

"Actually, I was thinking of kicking you out of the house with Rhodey once in awhile..." She nuzzles his cheek.

"That can be arranged. We try and get together once every three weeks anyway." He leans over and kisses her lightly on the lips. "We can also redo a room or two upstairs for you if you like, and give you some space that is really yours. I know you have slightly different decorative taste than me - though we like a lot of the same paintings."

Pepper's hand hovers over the space where she's supposed to sign, but she hesitates. "All joking aside, do you want me to wait until tomorrow to sign? Because I'll sign it now, but if you're only willing to make out with me when I'm tipsy, are you really going to be okay with me signing this?"

He looks at her hard. "Touch your right hand to your nose." She blinks and he shrugs. "Call it a home sobriety test. You reasoning has improved a lot, and your speech isn't so slurred. It may not have been so much real intoxication as it was the booze hitting your system several minutes before the food."

She sighs, but does as he asks. Her finger touches the tip of her nose then slides a little to one side as she yawns.

He smiles at her tenderly, stepping forward and leaning down to kiss her.

"Maybe we just both need to go to _bed_. Someone's looking a little bit sleepy. I'm reasonably certain we can find a way to kill the time when we wake up early tomorrow." He yawns himself. "Well assuming my Gestapo P.A didn't schedule me any early meetings."

"Just with Jarvis." Pepper quickly scribbles her name across the bottom of the page with a flourish. "There."

He takes it himself and signs his name at the bottom. "So," he asks inquisitively as he takes her head to lead them down to the bedroom. "Is this one of those days when a woman just needs to wear clothes to bed?"

"Are you going to ask that every night?"

"Until the novelty wears off, you better believe it."

He strips out of his jeans and t-shirt, pulling his socks off one at a time, then slides out of his boxers before sliding into his - no, into _their _bed.

"The 'novelty?' I hope that was a figure of speech." It takes Pepper a bit longer to get out of her jeans but she eventually joins him under the covers.

"You're in my bed on a Monday night, Pepper and neither of us is bleeding. It's going to be awhile I think, before that really seems normal." He reaches out once she's there, placing a hand on her hip and tugging her backwards until she's spooned back to front with him. "I love you," he murmurs, hand running the length of her flank.

"I love you too," she finally whispers back.


End file.
